Trouble At The Office

First, a bit of background. I'm 38 – my wife, Paula, is 34. We met when she was 17, and she came to work at the research lab where I had been for a couple of years. I was always attracted to her, right from the start. She was small, slim, blonde, with a trim, tidy figure. Her best asset was her absolute knock-out bum. She wore tight jeans most of the time, and looked gorgeous walking away!

But she also looked pretty good, walking towards you. Her tits were small, but firm and well-shaped. She usually wore fairly loose t-shirts, though, which didn't show them to best advantage. We got on OK from the start, but I hadn't enough self-confidence to make a move on her.

Office gossip was that she was pretty straight-laced – a virgin, waiting for Mr Right. She had been there for about a year before I worked up the nerve to ask her out, and I was really surprised when she agreed. We really hit it off as a couple, and we soon became an 'item'.

I had had sexual relationships in the past and, while I was desperate to fuck Paula, I was also very much in love with her, and I didn't want to push too hard on the sex front, in case I scared her off. The first breakthrough was after about three months, when we were in a friend's house, babysitting. We were on the couch, kissing, and Paula was really responding and I couldn't hold back any longer.

I slipped my hand under her blouse and reached up and caressed her perfect little firm breasts through her soft bra. Then she stood up, and went to the bathroom. When she came back I could see, even in the dim light, that she had taken her bra off, and put her blouse back on.

But, within five minutes, I had unbuttoned her blouse, and, two minutes later, she was naked to the waist! God, I spent half that night feeling and kissing her lovely tits, but I didn't dare try to go any further.

A few weeks later, we were in her house, when her parents were out. We went up to their bedroom, and we were on the bedroom floor, on a quilt, kissing and petting. Things got pretty passionate, again, and I half-jokingly suggested we should play 'You show me yours, and I'll show you mine.'

I couldn't believe it when Paula agreed, and slipped off her jeans, to reveal a really very young girl's panties, with flowers on them. But even through her panties, I could see she had a thick bush, with some of the hairs escaping out the side of her panties – and, although the blonde hair on her head is natural, her pubic hair was really dark.

I pulled my trousers off, then pulled down my boxers, to reveal my erect five-inch cock, and Paula shyly eased her panties down. She didn't really let me have a proper look, but I lay down beside her, and she touched my cock and let me feel between her legs.

I honestly don't remember whether she was wet, or not, but I guessed she had made up her mind that this time, we were going to go all the way, and I rummaged in my jacket and took out a condom, and managed to fit it on, my fingers trembling with excitement.

Our first time wasn't very dramatic. I got between Paula's legs and my cock slid inside her. I only managed about five thrusts before I came, and I remember she said – "Is that it?" – when I was finished. She was very interested in the used condom, though, and kept playing with it for ages, and touching my cum.

After that, though, there was no holding us, and our sex life was sensational. At the same time, I became very possessive, and jealous, and went through agonies every time I saw her speaking to another man, and smiling at him. I knew what they were thinking, and the thought that anyone else might get what I was getting drove me mad with jealousy.

I'm surprised she put up with me, then – I must have been hard work.

Then, we made a mistake, and Paula got pregnant. We got married in a bit of a hurry and then had a second child. Inevitably, for a few years, with all our energies devoted to looking after the kids, our sex life kind of went 'on the back burner', but it never seemed to bother Paula, although I found it frustrating, from time to time. But, I learned to live with it, largely through fantasy and masturbation.

Paula seemed perfectly fulfilled in her role as a wife and mother. She never dressed up to attract men – almost always wore t-shirt and jeans. Of course, her body lost some of its firmness, and she sometimes commented about how her tits and her bum were drooping a bit, these days, but I thought that made her even sexier – more womanly, somehow.

Her tits, especially, grew a little, and her nipples lengthened, and I still loved to play with them, and see them uncovered. But she was still pretty reserved, sexually. Even in the bedroom, she didn't like using 'coarse' words like tits and cock and cunt, although she could still get quite worked up.

Then, once both the kids were at school, she got her old job back. I had moved on, by then, to a new job in a different place.

Gradually, our sex life became more stimulating again. We started watching porno films – nothing too outrageous, just to get us 'in the mood'. Then I discovered she enjoyed talking about the 'action', in bed, afterwards, and she quite liked it when I described what had happened, as if we had been involved.

And I discovered that I got really excited when my description involved Paula with another man. I could feel my balls really tighten, and my cock harden, when I described another man putting his hands on her soft little tits, and taking her nipples in his mouth and sucking them.

It seemed to excite her, as well, although she always let me do the talking. After a while, I began to spin fantasies out of my head. Sometimes, they involved me fucking other women and, although I did find that arousing – and so, it seemed, did Paula – it was even better, for me, picturing Paula letting another man slide his hand under her bra to fondle her sexy little tits, and spreading her legs to take another guy's cock!

One night, in one of the films we watched, the guy slid his finger into the girl's asshole, while he was fucking her. Paula didn't say anything, but, in bed, afterwards, she got on top of me, then took my hand and pushed it towards her bottom. She had never done anything like this before, and it nearly blew my mind! I rubbed my finger in her pussy juice, then pushed it gently into her ass as I was fucking her with my cock.

Almost immediately, she had a huge orgasm and, after that, I almost always fingered her ass when we fucked. Of course, I began to wonder what it would be like to put my cock in there, but Paula wouldn't let me, and I didn't push it. But it became another of my favourite fantasies and I dreamed of the day when she would be so far gone that she'd let me spread her cheeks and...

In the last couple of years, though, she's become more and more uninhibited in the bedroom. She now lets me watch her masturbate, and she's acquired three vibrators, including a really huge one. One night, I slipped a black condom over the big one, and she seemed to come even faster that night – and more often! I began to fantasise about her taking a real black cock, and she now admits that this is something she fantasises about, when she's masturbating – or when I'm fucking her – especially when I wear a black condom, which I sometimes do!

But, outside, she's still the same Paula – casually dressed, and still very unsure of herself. She doesn't think she's anything to look at, and I'm sure she's unaware of the looks she gets from men, who turn round to enjoy another look at her cute little round ass in those tight jeans...

One time, about a year ago, I borrowed a few films from a friend. They were made in the seventies, and, although the nudity and the sexual exposure weren't as frank as they are today, the acting was a lot better, and the subjects a lot hotter. There wasn't the 'taboo' there seems to be today against rape, and the coercion of women into stripping and having sex.

One, which I liked very much, was about a married woman whose husband wanted to introduce her into wife-swapping, but she wouldn't have it. One night, after they had entertained another couple to dinner, and it was obvious that the other two were 'up' for a swap, her husband lost his patience with her, and grabbed her, holding her arms behind her, while their male guest first of all touched her breasts over her dress, then pulled it down to expose her bare tits. She was crying, and struggling, but, between them, the two men stripped her naked and her husband held her down on her back on the fireside rug while the other man forced her legs apart and fucked her.

The other wife, meanwhile, had stripped herself off, and the husband was fucking her as they watched his wife being raped. Although she was still very unhappy about it, the wife realised that her protests were useless, and even had a session with the other woman, as well as allowing both men to shag her again, several times.

They then had two or three more 'foursomes', with the wife still reluctant, but obedient to her husband's desires, then the film went on to show their first night at a wife-swapping club. They arrived, by taxi, dressed in evening clothes, at a big hotel in London's West End, and were shown into a huge room, where dozens of other couples were waiting, all masked. The wife, tears sparking her eyes, was led to a little spotlit stage in the corner, and everyone crowded round.

Then a masked man joined her on stage, and slowly undressed her. When she was naked, he bent her forward at the waist and slid his cock into her. That was the sign for the masks to come off, and the men and women to start changing partners. When she looked up, the woman saw her husband watching her being fucked, his arms round a tall blonde, feeling her naked tits from behind as she ground her ass into his groin....

Paula got very turned on, watching that one, and we actually fucked on the living-room floor while watching it – the first time we hadn't been able to wait until we got upstairs, and into bed.

A couple of nights later, I put one on that was about the mods and rockers of the sixties. It was set in a seaside town and, although there was quite a lot of sex, there was a lot of violence, too, which neither of us really liked.

But, towards the end, there was a scene, following a pitched battle on the beach between the two gangs, when the action spilled over into the town. Two local teenage girl-friends were out, innocently shopping, when they were suddenly caught up in a gang of rockers, fleeing down a side-street.

They ended up in an alley, with about a dozen leather-jacketed teenage boys. Because of the way the girls were dressed, the rockers thought they were part of the 'mod' gang, and closed in on them...

Each girl was surrounded by a group of boys. They were screaming, and protesting, but the boys ignored their cries, and there were hands all over them, feeling them up and pulling off their clothes, amidst laughing and jeering. The scene didn't last very long, and there was no full frontal nudity shown, but the atmosphere of panic and arousal was very real, especially when the girls were stripped completely naked, and the gang of rockers closed in on them, grabbing them and feeling their bare breasts and bottoms.

Then, suddenly, the boys saw another gang of mods and chased after them, and the alley was empty, apart from the two weeping, naked girls, crying in each other's arms, and searching for their clothing.

Paula was gripping my hand very tightly as we watched that scene. I guessed it was because she knew it turned me on. Although I try to conceal it, I always get aroused by stories and pictures of women being stripped against their will and, sometimes, when we talk in bed, I let these innermost thoughts slip into our conversation.

But the rest of the film was all violence, with no more sex, and we watched it in virtual silence, then switched off, and went to bed. We always sleep naked after watching one of those films and, usually, we're so hot that we're onto each other right away. Tonight, though, Paula just lay beside me, looking up at the ceiling.

I leaned over and gently cupped one of her tits, wondering if the mood was shattered. To my surprise, though, her nipple was erect, and I slid a hand between her thighs. Her pussy hair was matted, and her vaginal lips puffy and moist.

I leaned over to kiss her, my finger probing the entrance to her cunt, but, before my lips met hers, she moved her head to the side.

"You never met Linda, did you?" she asked. "Linda Masters?"

I shook my head.

"She was my friend, at school," Paula said. Her voice was strange – sort of detached. "She had a boyfriend. His name was Alan. I didn't have a boyfriend, then. Linda was very good-looking, then – she's put on a bit of weight, now, but, then, she had a gorgeous figure. Especially her boobs. She had big boobs – big, and firm – not like me."

I lay on my side, listening, my finger gently stroking Paula's pussy lips. I wondered if she would describe her friend's big tits, for me...

"Alan was a big football supporter – Leeds United. He was always buying Linda Leeds stuff to wear – shirts and sweaters and things. One Saturday, just after the start of the football season, Alan was at the football match, and Linda was meeting him, later, to go to a club, so Linda and I went into the city, to the shops. We were at her house, getting ready to go, and she talked me into wearing one of her old Leeds shirts. It was too tight for her, now – especially around her boobs – but it fitted me perfectly."

"She said that wearing a football shirt got boys talking to you, so I agreed to try it. And it worked! We got chatted up a lot that day, and we stayed until the shops were shut. It was about six o'clock when we set off to go home, and we decided to take a short-cut across the park. The park was empty and we were just strolling along, laughing and chatting, when, suddenly, a gang of boys just appeared, right in front of us."

"They were all wearing red shirts, and talking with London accents. They were Arsenal supporters, going back to their bus, after the match, which their team had won. For a minute or two, they just chatted us up, and Linda was laughing and joking with them. Then, one of them said that, because they had beaten our team, we would have to let them see our 'tits'. Linda just laughed it off, but the atmosphere suddenly changed, and I realised they weren't joking, and suddenly, I felt scared."

"They reached out for us, and we turned and ran, but they caught us in a couple of strides, and pulled both of us into a shelter. It happened so quickly, I couldn't believe it. As soon as we were in the shelter, they grabbed our arms and pulled our shirts up. I tried to kick and struggle, but there were far too many of them, and they dragged my shirt up, over my head, and pulled it right off."

"Then one of them pushed my bra up and – and my breasts were – well, they could see them. And then they started touching them – all their hands reaching out and touching my breasts. I could see them doing the same to Linda – her shirt and bra had gone, and their hands were all over her, squeezing her breasts and pulling her nipples. I was shouting, and crying, and so was she. I just couldn't believe it – I had never shown my breasts to a boy before, and now there were four or five of them, looking at them, and touching them."

Paula's voice had risen, and she was trembling violently as she relived the events of that afternoon, which she had never confided in me, before. I was in a terrible quandary. The thought of Paula's perfect little firm tits being forcibly exposed by a gang of teenage boys was so erotic for me – but I realised that it had been a terrible ordeal for her. My cock was rigid with excitement, and I was petrified that she would realise this, and never forgive me.

"What happened, then?" I muttered, hoarsely.

"Well, I thought they were going to rape us, and I was absolutely panic-stricken, but then, in the distance, I heard a police siren, and I yelled 'That's the police coming!' They heard it, too, and they stopped for a moment or two, listening. The siren got closer and closer until it sounded as if it was right beside us, and, suddenly, they began running – and they just – disappeared."

"As they vanished, the siren began to fade away again and I realised it had been in the road behind the shelter, which was on the edge of the park. We thought they were going to come back, but they didn't, and we just sank down on to the bench, shaking and crying."

As she reached the climax of her tale, Paula's voice became more jerky and the last few words came out in a mixture of gasps and sobs. I became even more ashamed of my arousal, which was immense, as I realised what an ordeal it had been for my shy wife to describe these events to me, for the first time.

I folded my arms around her and held her trembling body, but keeping my stiff erection well away from her.

"Hey," I breathed softly. "It's OK. You couldn't help it. And you wouldn't see any of these guys ever again."

I felt her head nod against my chest.

"It could have been a lot worse," I ventured, and she nodded again, moving her head back, a little.

"I know," she whispered.

"Was it just – your tits – that they felt?" I couldn't help myself asking, although I knew I was on the point of coming, and the news that one of them might have touched her 'down there' would...

"I suppose so," Paula replied, her voice still very breathy and shaky. "One of them grabbed me between the legs, but I was wearing jeans so he would only have felt – you know – denim. But no-one had ever even done that, before, and it really frightened me. They tried to open my jeans, but I had a big belt on, and they couldn't undo it, and one of them tried to push his hand down the back, but they were too tight."

She took another couple of deep breaths, then went on.

"But when I looked at Linda, after they had gone, her jeans had been pushed down – not far, about halfway down her thighs. And her panties were half down, too – some of her – hair – was showing above them. We were both sitting on the bench, our arms crossed over our chests, crying and shaking."

"I asked Linda if she was all right. She took her hands away from her breasts, and I could see they were covered with little marks – like little bruises, where their hands had really pinched and squeezed them. My breasts were much smaller than hers and I suppose – well, I suppose, they weren't so easy to squeeze. What I remember is them more – flicking them and pulling my nipples, and making comments about how little they were....."

Again, her voice trailed away, and I hugged her again. I sensed that, somehow, the comments about her tits being small had upset, her, even under these circumstances, and my heart went out to her... At last, to my relief, my cock was beginning to detumesce, as I concentrated my mind on Paula's distress.

"Linda pulled her panties up again, and fastened her jeans," Paula went on, her voice still jerky with emotion. "I asked her, again, if she was OK. She said her breasts weren't sore now, although it had hurt a couple of times when the boys were squeezing them – but what was really upsetting her was that..."

Paula began to shake again, in my arms, but I couldn't help myself.

"What?" I asked. "What had upset her?"

Her entire body was still shaking, almost jerking, but her voice carried on.

"She said that Alan had felt her tits – and seen them – but that she had never let him feel inside her panties. Although she hadn't wanted it, she had almost found it exciting – all these boys feeling her breasts, and seeing them naked – but then she felt the top button of her jeans go, then the zip was pulled down, and she got really frightened. I think that was when I heard her scream. They were still holding her arms and she struggled furiously to make them let go, but they wouldn't and then she felt her jeans being pulled down."